His Companion
by zharza
Summary: An AU of The Story of the Other Wise Man. Artaban begins his journey to seek the rightful King of Israel, but with him, Belenna, a servant of Rhodaspes of whom instructed her to travel with him, must attend as well. This 33 year journey may become more interesting.


"Children, your mother and father told you to sleep! What are you still doing awake!?"

Belenna sat down on the stool at the far end of the room, resting her aching bones as the young girl and boy got under their blankets.

"We can't sleep!"

"Will you tell us a story?"

She sighed. "What sort of story?" Belenna asked.

"About a Prince!"

"The Nazarene?" The aging woman crossed her legs. Their curiosity was strange – although they knew much about Jesus, this household tended to avoid talking about his time of crucification. And for good reason, but not to do with the Prince of Peace himself. Unfortunately, he happened to be in a time of crisis the same time as the lady of this household.

The girl shook her head. "Do you know any about the Magi?"

Belenna started to smile. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"Tell it to us!"

She laughed once. "If I must." She paused. "You are aware of the three Wise Men? Casper, Melchior, and Balthazar?" The children nodded. "Well, like everyone does, they had friends. They travelled with another companion, Artaban.

* * *

The house of Artaban the Median was a very majestic one, to say the least. The floor was laid out with dark blue tiles, with blue walls surrounding them. The windows were a rough circle shape, with curtains of azure silk.

In the centre of this particular room, however, stood a black alter, where a small flame could be seen burning. Holding the ceiling up are dark red pillars. A doorway between two of the pillars opens to the terrace of the roof, and it was covered with a heavy crimson curtain. With plush cushions scattered around the room, it was fairly obvious that Artaban was a rich man.

Artaban himself was quite a tall man of about 30 years of age. With locks of dark brown hair and with what Belenna would have called beady eyes, he was more than capable of expressing much emotion on his face.

It was the time where Herod reigned over Jerusalem. And today, in his home city of Ecbatana, among the mountains of Persia, Artaban was about to hold council with his friends.

"Welcome!" He expressed, his voice low and pleasant as her welcomed each friend in turn. "Peace be with you all. You are all welcome, and this house shines brightly with the joy of your presence."

There are perhaps nine men that Artaban has invited, each differing widely in age (the youngest at the age of around 17, was Rhodaspes, a close friend of Artaban's). They were, however, all alike in the richness of their dress, all in different colours, and with massive golden collars around their necks. This marked them as Parthian nobles, and in the winged gold circles resting upon their chests, the sign of the followers of Zoroaster.

By the time everyone was settled, Artaban started to speak. "You have come here tonight, at my call, as the faithful scholars of Zoroaster, to renew your worship and rekindle your faith in the God of Purity. Even as this fire has been rekindled on the alter. We worship not the fire, but of Him, whom it is the chosen symbol, because it is the purest of all created things. It speaks to us of One who is light and truth. Is it not so, my father?"

Abgarus, Artaban's father, was a kind, balding man of whom everyone in the room felt respect for. He was far shorter than his son, even without the staff he had come to rely on in his old age, for assistance in walking. "It is well said, my son." He nodded his head once. "The enlightened do not worship idols. The new light and truth are coming to them continually through the old symbols."

"Hear me then, my father and my friends, whie I tell you of the new light and truth that have come to me through the most ancient of all signs," Artaban said quietly. "The knowledge of the stars. To trace their courses is to untangle mysteries such as life from beginning to end. If we could follow them perfectly, nothing would be hidden from us."

There was no doubt about the excitement in Artaban's eyes as he was speaking to the group gathered before him. The murmur around the group, however, proved that the others were not as enthusiastic as Artaban. Tigranes, a slowly aging man with white hair and a narrow face, and of whom rivalled Artaban's height, seemed to be more sceptical than the others. This was nature for the man, however, as many found it difficult to be in company with Tigranes for long periods of time.

"The stars are the thoughts of the eternal, Artaban. They are numberless, but the thoughts of man _can_ be counted, like the years of his life. The wisdom of the Magi is the greatest of them all, because it knows its own ignorance. _That_ is the secret of power. We keep men always looking and waiting for a new sunrise, but we ourselves know that the darkness is equal to the light and that the conflict between them will never be ended."

If Belenna didn't know any better, should would have said that Artaban groaned. "That does not satisfy me. If the waiting must be endless, than it would not be wisdom to look and wait. We should become more like the those new teachers of the Greek, who say that there is no truth, and that the only wise men are those who spend their life discovering and exploring the lies that have been believed in the world." Tigranes turned bright red. "A new sunrise _will_ dawn in the appointed time. Don't our own books tell us that this will come to pass and that men will see the brightness of a great light?"

Abgarus hugged his staff close to him as he thought. "That is true. Every faithful disciple of Zoroaster knows the prophecy and carries the word in his heart." He straightened himself out as much as he could to recite the prophecy. "In that day, Sosiosh the Victorious shall arise out of the number of the prophets in the east country. Around him, shall shine a mighty brightness, and he shall make life everlasting, incorruptible, and immortal, and the dead shall rise again."

There was a murmur among the men as the words settled in. Tigranes cross his arms, as if he were protecting himself from Abgarus' words. "This is a _dark_ saying, and we may never understand it. It was better to consider the things near at hand, and to increase the influence of the Magi in their own country rather than to look for one who may be stronger, and to whom we must resign our power to!"

It seemed that, for a short moment, Tigranes had won over the group. Artaban turned to his father, placing a hand on his shoulder. "My father, I have kept this prophecy in the secret place of my soul. Religion without a great hope would be like . . ." He gestured to the alter in the room. "An alter without a living fire! I have read the words which have come from the fountain of truth, and speak more clearly of the rising of the Victorious One in His brightness."

He drew two small rolls of fine linen from his tunic, and seated himself down at his table, unfolding them carefully. He continued to speak. "In the years before our fathers came to Babylon, there were wise men in Chaldea, from which the first of the Magi learned the secret of the heavens. Balaam, the son of Beor, was one of the mightiest. Hear the words of his prophecy;" He read off the first scroll. "'There shall come a star out of Jacob, and a sceptre shall arise out of Israel'."

Tigranes scowled. Now, he was definitely the only one against Artaban's plans that wished to speak out. "Judah was a captive by the waters of Babylon, and the sons of Jacob were in bondage to our King. The tribes of Israel are scattered through the mountains like lost sheep, and from those who remain in Judea, under the yoke of Rome. Neither star nor sceptre shall arise."

Artaban pulled out a second scroll. "Yet it is the Hebrew Daniel who wrote; 'Know, therefore, and understand that from the going forth of the commandment to restore Jerusalem, unto the Anointed One, the Prince, the time shall be seven and three score and two weeks'."

His father frowned. "But my son, these are mystical numbers. Who can interpret them, or unlock their meaning?" He hugged close to his staff again.

"It has been shown to me and my three companions among the Magi – Casper, Melchior and Balthazar." His eyes brightened. "We have searched the ancient tablets of Chaldea, and computed the time! It falls in _this year_." He looked up to the ceiling as he spoke. "We have studied the sky, and in the Spring of this year, we saw two of the greatest stars draw together in the sign of the fish," He looked back at the group of men. "Which is the house of the Hebrews. We also saw a new star, which shone for one night, and then vanished. Now, again, the two great planets are meeting. This night is their conjunction."

He stood, the excitement clear in his eyes. "My three brothers are watching in the ancient Temple of the Seven Spheres in Babylonia, and I am watching here. If the star shines again, they will wait ten days for me, and then we shall set out together for Jerusalem, to see and worship the promised one, who shall be born King of Israel." Artaban moved towards Tigranes. "I believe the sign will come. I have made ready for the journey." The man thrust his hand into the bag hanging on his shoulder. "I have sold my house and possessions, and bought three jewels; a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl," He pulled the jewels out of the bag and showed them around to the group. "To carry as tribute to the King. I ask you to go with me on this journey, so that we may have joy together in finding the Prince who is worthy to be served!"

His friends glanced around at one another, murmurs passing between them as they took in what Artaban was asking of them.

"Artaban," Tigranes growled. "This is just a vain dream! It comes from lookin too much upon th stars and cherishing lofty thoughts. It is wiser to spend the money you had gathered on the new fire temple in Chala!" He puffed out his chest in annoyance as he took closer steps towards his host. "No king will ever arise from the broken and down-beat race of Israel, and no end will ever come to the eternal strife of light and darkness. He who looks for it is a chaser of shadows. Now _farewell_."

After bowing his head to Artaban and the rest of the group, Tigranes all but stormed out of the chamber. Silence followed for a few seconds, that felt like hours to Artaban. His eyes did not meet any of the others, until finally, Abdus (only second eldest to Abgarus) took a step forward, to answer Artaban's question.

"Artaban, I have no knowledge of these things," Artaban looked up, a glitter of hope in his eyes. "My office of guardian of the royal treasure binds me here. This journey is not for me, but if you must follow it, then do so." Like Tigranes, he too, bowed his head, but was far more courteous to his host as he made his exit.

As the murmurs returned, Rhodaspes placed a hand on Artaban's shoulder. "As you know, I married Mikahli no more than a week ago. I think it strange that this would slip your mind."

Artaban slowly nodded his head. Rhodaspes was young compared to himself. He seemed very happy with Mikahli, and Artaban approved of her – she was a kind woman with a goal of beginning a family with her new husband.

"I cannot leave Mikahli, nor take her with me on this quest of yours, my friend." He bowed his head. "But may your steps be prospered wherever you go."

"Thank you, brother,"

And then Rhodaspes left, following Abdus and Tigranes. Artaban turned to face the remaining four men; his father, Zenades and his two servants.

With a sigh, Zenades spoke. "I am ill, and unfit for hardship." He glanced at the servant on his right. "I would send one of my servants to travel with you, but . . . I cannot spare one." He bowed his head like the others. "Go with my blessing, Artaban."

Artaban bowed and watched with saddened eyes as Zenades left with his company, leaving Artaban with his father and his thoughts. For the few silent moments they had, Artaban felt alone. Did his friends think him a fool? While Tigranes was normally the sour type, Artaban did not expect his friends to simply walk out on him.

"My son," Abgarus breathed out loudly, thinking. "It may be that the light of truth is in this sign that has appeared in the skies, and that it will surely lead to the Prince and the mighty brightness." He placed a hand on his son's back. "Or it may be that it is only a shadow of the light, as Tigranes has said, and then he who follows it will only have a long pilgrimage and an empty search."

He paused, Artaban's eyes falling to the ground as his listened to his father's words.

"But," His father continued, "It is _better_ to follow even a shadow of the best, than to remain content with the worst. Those who would see wonderful things must often be ready to travel alone." He looked away. "I am too old for this journey, but my heart will be your companion, day and night. And I will know the end of your quest." He rested his head against his son's shoulder. "Go, Artaban. Go, in _peace_."

He stayed in an embrace with his father for a few moments before Abgarus pulled away and hobbled out of the chamber with his staff.

With a sigh, Artaban gathered up his jewels and placed them back in the back. He walked outside onto his terrace, looking up at the sky, just waiting for the sign to appear.

* * *

"From what I've heard, it seems that his mind is made up, Abgarus."

Mikahli handed the old man and her new husband cups of water, giving a nod to a passing servant with a smile. Mikahli was around the same age as Rhodaspes, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. She seemed incapable of becoming angered, and seemed to be one of the few people who were capable of tolerating Tigranes. To Rhodaspes, Mikahli was a dream come true.

"That is what concerns me. He only has God to protect and watch over him, and I cannot say that I am truly content with this." He sighed. "I believe that he requires a companion."

Rhodaspes shook his head slowly. "I have already said to him that I cannot, Abgarus. I understand your concern, but Artaban has taken care of him for this long."

"And I cannot allow Rhodaspes to leave my side just yet."

This comment from Mikahli earned her a strange, confused look from Abgarus. This was a strange situation for him to be in, having not spent much time around Rhodaspes' bride. He was starting to wonder if, hidden under all that warmth and kindess, was a rather over-bearing, brash young woman.

"I did not mean to push you into believing you must go, Rhodaspes." He tried to ignore Mikahli from that point on. "I apologise if it felt as much."

"It's quite alright." Rhodaspes looked away, glancing at one of his servants. "Belenna?"

A young woman, older than Mikahli but far younger than Abgarus, with black hair and striking jade green eyes, stood before Rhodaspes. "Yes, master?"

Rhodaspes looked her up and down. "You spent a large amount of time speaking with Artaban after the wedding, did you not?"

Belenna nodded. "Yes, master. Master Artaban spoke of a great light in the near future. I found the subject interesting." She paused. "Have I done something wrong?"

Her master frowned. "I'd like you to do something for me."

"Of course, master."

"I want you to go with Artaban on this journey he speaks of, and send us back word of his progress."

The woman's eyes widened. "_Me_, master? But my task is to serve _you_, not Master Artaban . . ."

"I would go with him myself, Belenna, but I cannot. You know this." He sighed. "I am willing to give you your freedom in return for this service."

She hesitated. "My freedom?"

"Do you not wish to be free, Belenna?" Mikahli interjected.

Belenna sighed. "I do not know. My master has always been good to me." There was a pause as she thought. "How long will I be gone?"

"We do not know, but you shall be our eyes and ears. Now go, Belenna, and prepare for the journey."

With a bow of her head, Belenna left the small group. With a breath of relief, Abgarus smiled. "I cannot thank you enough, Rhodaspes."

"Belenna has served us well. I'm sure Artaban will benefit greatly from her presence."

* * *

While on his terrace, Artaban looked up towards the heavens. Jupiter and Saturn rolled together like drops of water, about to blend into one. And as he watched, an azure spark is born out of the darkness. It spired upwards to a point of white radiance, perfect in every way. The man covered his brow as the star pulsated in the enormous vault of the heavens.

"It is the sign!" Artaban yelled from his terrace. "The King is coming! And I will go to meet Him!"

He raced off the terrace, gathering his things to begin his journey to meet the others in Babylonia. When all was gathered, his jewels safe in the small bag on his shoulder, he rushed to ready Vasda, the swiftest of his horses, in his stable. He didn't get far, however, as he ran smack-bang into a woman.

After recovering from the initial shock and apologising at least twice, Artaban stared at the green eyes, of which were staring right back at him. "_Belenna?_" He frowned. "What in the heavens are you doing here!?"

He pushed past her, not really waiting for an explanation, so that he may immediately get to Vasda.

"Master Rhodaspes has instructed me to go with you on your journey."

Artaban stopped in his tracks, glancing at the woman. "Rhodaspes?"

"And your father."

"My father . . ." He repeated.

Of course Abgarus would not allow his song to travel such a strange journey alone. He must have spoken to Rhodaspes himself, if such a companion as Belenna was coming with him. With a small sigh, he pressed forward once more. "Very well, but we must hurry."


End file.
